True Colors
by Kindred Spirit
Summary: Mark/Roger slash. Mark's physically attracted to Roger, but keeps that knowledge to himself...until a girl named April enters. Rated PG-13 for future content. Will probably go up to R. This isn't your typical slash..I've got a great plot..


Title subject to change. Leave your email address in your review if you wish to contribute ideas etc to this story. I should also warn you that this is _slash. _A guy/guy relationship-In this case Mark and Roger. Yes. Gay. Woo. Scary. Anyway, now that the assholes and bigots have been scared off let me give you my disclaimer. Rent belongs to Jonathan Larson. I don't own Rent, it's music, or it's characters. I'd also like to add that I have nothing against April-I just need to make her character kind of...tough and easily angered for the story. Besides, if that was her personality wouldn't she be the perfect companion for Roger (Second to Mark and Mimi of course,)?

_True Colors_

-Another one of Roger's gigs. I didn't mind though. I loved to sit in the back of a smoky bar and watch him play, pouring his heart into his work. Those times-when his passionate voice rang out, his eyes closed as he strummed effortlessly on his acoustic guitar-were the times my feelings for him truly surfaced. Roger and had been best friends since high school, but whenever I sat and watched him play, something changed. He wasn't just Roger anymore. He wasn't _just_ a friend. He was something much, much more...Something on a deeper level. Every time his eyebrows tilted back in emotion my heart would flip-flop. But then I would realize what I was thinking about. 

I knew we would never be like... _that_. I knew. That would mean I was gay. And even if I wanted to be gay, Roger is the only guy I'm attracted to--the only _person_ I'm attracted to. And Roger could never be gay. Gay guitar players don't get record deals--Roger is an aspiring rock star. Rock stars _aren't_ gay.

No, It could never be the same. He'd never love me with the full weight I love him. Most likely, if I confessed to him he'd run. Roger's always been one to run; all the while I'd known him. Better to keep it quiet. I was content to sit and watch him play every now and then. I'd hum along quietly, or pretend he was singing only to me--especially with the love ballads. 

His set was almost over. The songs he was playing weren't his own work but no matter what the song was he made it sound good-very good. He crooned the last verse of his ending piece and a polite applause followed. My blonde friend thanked the crowd, his dancing green eyes searching out the faces of various people. He quickly made eye contact with other pairs of eyes, and exited the small stage area.

That's just the kind of guy Roger is. He looks people squarely in the eye. When we first met, I would falter every other sentence I spoke to him, because of those bright malachite eyes. With flecks of gold and jade, they always distracted me and I would waver, just staring into them. Over time I learned to look back into them with a kind of mental shield up, but they still sent the slightest tingle racing up my spine--I couldn't hold Roger's gaze for long.

Rog made his way towards me. I was giving him a standing ovation, a dopey grin plastered across my face. He came over with a cocky smile and swiftly pulled me into a one armed bear hug, the other arm outstretched with his esteemed guitar.

"How was it?"

"Great!" I said, trying to keep the majority of my emotions out of my voice. It took me a few minutes to push my feelings for him back down inside again...Luckily Roger was still in adrenaline rush mode and didn't notice my enthusiasm.

"Thanks," He released me. Then he winked impishly. "You know...Now it's over. And I don't need my voice anymore..." He trailed off. I nodded, knowing what he was getting at.

"Yup. You can scream at people as much as you want now." There was a dramatic silence for a few seconds. We stared at each other blinking.

Then:

"Let's get drunk!" He cried. I knew it.

"Do we have to?" I whined playfully. 

"Yes," He grinned and shook my shoulder. We both chuckled and headed over towards the bartender. Finally...some quality time with Roger. I love it when it's just the two of us. I'm sure that's the way it would have been if the oh-so-graceful Roger had not accidentally swung a guitar at a nearby girl's head.

On her tall stool near the center of the bar the girl ducked rapidly as the stringed instrument sailed by, clipping her ear. Her stool tipped sideways and she barely caught herself.

"_What the fuck is your problem?!"_ She hissed at Roger, eyes blazing. Rog grinned apologetically and touched her hand briefly. 

"Sorry! I really am sorry..." He purred with an inviting smile. "Clumsy me..." I hated when Roger got like that around girls...

"You sure as hell'd better be!" The raven-haired girl fumed. "You nearly took my head off, you fucking moron!" Now that was a bit degrading to our Rog.

"Hey! I said sorry!" He dropped his cool to raise his voice as he snorted indignantly. That was certainly not looking good... 

"Chill, guys!" I stepped in-Now that I think about it I don't know why I did. If only I had let them stay angry...they probably would have never met again. That was the worst decision of my life. "Roger, why don't you buy her a drink? Lets calm down you two.."

"What do you want?" Roger grumbled to the girl as he leafed through his old wallet full of One Dollar Bills. The girl noted his cash problem and ordered the most expensive drink possible. Roger looked like he was about to flip but I poked his shoulder.

"It's ok," I said. "We have enough," Leaving the awkward situation as quickly as possible I turned to the girl. "Now, Miss…what did you say your name was?"

"April," Said the girl before us. Her hair was an ebony color and it framed her icy blue eyes beautifully. "And I didn't say." I bobbed my head politely, ignoring her last comment.

"I'm Mark. This is Roger." My annoyed friend lifted up a hand and waved sarcastically.

"Heya, buddy." 

Surprisingly April laughed. It was a very strange laugh. Not a happy sound...almost cruel, but mostly wistfully dark. Roger, for reasons unknown warmed to her immediately at the sound of her dry chuckle. He allowed a small smile-then he suddenly began studying his shoes. With Roger staring at the ground sheepishly April turned her brilliant gaze to me. Her eyes...they were as intense as Roger's. That worried me. It really did. I suddenly wanted to get away from that girl.

"Well. Are you two going to stand there all night or sit down and have a drink?" April asked brushing long sweeping bangs out of her face as the bartender delivered her drink. Roger looked up, saw the gesture, and promptly fell under that woman's power. He sat down next to her and grinned.

"I'm broke," He said "Some jerk spent my last dollar on some expensive beer. How's that for luck?"

April sipped her drink innocently. "Poor dear." She said sympathetically with a perfect deadpan. Roger smirked. I sat down quietly. I was being ignored already.


End file.
